When An He rushed back home, he didn't hear the sound of mahjong at the door, which made him feel a little uncomfortable.
He took out the key and opened the door. None of his mother's mahjong friends were in the room, but the two mahjong tables were still in a mess.
My mother was sitting at the mahjong table with a cigarette in her mouth. Opposite her sat a thin woman who looked to be in her thirties and had delicate makeup on.
It was unclear whether the two women were communicating with their minds or fighting with their eyes. After An He came in, neither of them moved.
An He walked to his mother and squeezed her shoulder: "What's wrong?"
"Get her out of here." Mom flicked the ash from her cigarette and pointed at the woman with the cigarette butt.
"Sister, the problem has to be solved," the woman glanced at An He, "even if you ask your son to come, it has to be solved. I'm not here to quarrel."
"Stop pretending to be well-mannered. Aren't you feeling uncomfortable inside? You can't hold it back and come to me to make trouble during the New Year, and you're still pretending," my mother sneered, "You're acting so superior to someone who's third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, or eighth."
The woman also smiled: "Your son is already so old, it's time for you to let it go. What's the point of keeping a marriage that is in name only? You don't even know his phone number..."
"Go out," An He interrupted her and pointed at the door. "Go out."
"I won't leave until today's matter is resolved," the woman raised her voice, "An Zhifei and I have feelings for each other! You have already come to this point, why don't you give each of us a way out?"
"If you want a divorce, let An Zhifei say it himself." An He looked at her.
The woman said nothing.
An He knew what was going on. His parents had been struggling for so many years but had never mentioned divorce. Although An He couldn't understand why they did this, he knew very well that this was probably not what his father meant.
"Get out." He repeated his previous words.
"Now that I'm here, I won't leave easily." The woman said calmly.
An He stared at her for a few seconds, walked into the kitchen, and came out with a kitchen knife in his hand.
Before she could understand what was happening, An He raised his hand and chopped the table in front of her with a knife, and the corner of the knife sank deeply into the table.
"Ah!" Mom yelled, and the cigarette in her hand fell to the ground, "My table!"
The woman froze in her chair and was speechless for a long time.
"Get out," An He said again, "I have a bad temper, and I hate it most when someone keeps me from resting during my vacation."
The woman looked at the knife on the table, slowly stood up, paused for a while, then turned and walked out the door.
"Well done!" Mom clapped her hands on the table.
An He glanced at her, said nothing, and followed the woman out the door.
"What else do you want to do!" The woman stood at the door and turned to look at him.
"If you're willing, you can just stay with my dad. If you're not willing, get out," An He said in a low voice, but every word was clear. "If you want a divorce, let my dad come home and tell him himself."
"Does this mean that if he comes back and tells your mother, she will set him free?" The woman turned around.
"I don't know," An He smiled, "If he dares to come back and tell me, I will kill him."
The woman was stunned for a few seconds, her face full of surprise: "You are not a child anymore, how can you say such things? What right do you have..."
"They owe me a home," An He put away his smile, his voice still low, "Even if it's just an empty shell, it must be left to me. If anyone dares to destroy it, I will do anything."
The woman stared at him, slowly backing away, and finally turned around and ran along the corridor towards the stairs: "Mad man!"
An He returned to the house and saw his mother still sitting at the table, staring at the kitchen knife on the table in a daze.
He went over, pulled out the kitchen knife, put it back in the kitchen, put on his coat, didn't say anything more to his mother, opened the door and walked out.
"Anhe." Mom called him from inside the house.
"Huh?" He stood outside the door without moving.
"…Nothing, let's go," my mother picked at the mahjong on the table, "Oh, you ruined my mood for the whole day."
An He closed the door and stood outside for a while. When he heard his mother calling to gather his mahjong friends over, he slowly walked downstairs.
An He felt very stuffy when he returned to his place. He opened the car window on the way, and the cold wind made his teeth ache, but it did not relieve the stuffiness that was rising from the deepest part of his body. He almost couldn't breathe.
When he got back to the house, he closed all the curtains, turned on the music, picked up a random piano piece, took out the set of glass teapots that his students gave him on Teacher's Day last year from the cupboard, and carried the ingredients he bought from the supermarket into the kitchen.
He wants to make a pot of fruit tea.
Pineapple, passion fruit jam, lemon, tea bags.
An He had never made fruit tea before, and it took him a long time just to dice the pineapple. By the time he was done, he had almost lost his desire to drink fruit tea. The pineapple cubes were of different sizes and shapes, and he didn't know how Na Chen could cut them so neatly, as if they had come out of a nest.
But at least he finished cutting. He poured all the ingredients into the pot, filling up half the pot. After adding water, it looked full and he felt quite accomplished.
But it's not the same thing after it's cooked.
An He held up the pot, studying the strange fruit paste and dark brown liquid in it with some confusion.
This seemed to be completely different from the fruit tea that Na Chen had brewed. He took a sip and the taste was…
So, in line with the principle of not wasting anything, An He let the tea cool down and put it in the refrigerator, then opened a can of juice.
The holidays were still so boring. An He spent several days in a daze, half asleep and half awake, between the bed and the bathtub. His mother didn't call again, there was still no news from his father, and there was no movement from the woman who came to declare a failed war.
An He felt that the day seemed to have solidified, sticky and endless.
It was not until more than 20 students in the class rushed into the living room that he was brought back to reality. He remembered that he had agreed with his students that they would come to pay New Year's greetings today.
"Happy New Year, Mr. An!" The students were all very excited and shouted as soon as they entered the door. Two boys placed two pots of kumquats in the middle of his living room.
"Happy, thank you." An He dragged the kumquat aside and plucked a kumquat from the tree. "That's good. I won't ask you to eat. Pick it yourself."
"I'm so thirsty, Mr. An. Where's the water in your house?" Zhang Lin opened the refrigerator door. "Is there any ice?"
An He was about to say, "Have some juice?" But before he could say anything, Zhang Lin had already taken out the pot of fruit tea that he had put in the refrigerator a few days ago. He didn't even use a cup, but just tilted his head back and started drinking. He sighed, "Yes..."
Zhang Lin drank half a pot of fruit tea, wiped his mouth, and squeezed in between the boys sitting on the sofa: "Great!"
An He stared at him for a long time, and there seemed to be no adverse reaction. Does this kid have no sense of taste
During the Chinese New Year, students’ New Year greetings are actually only related to the purpose of the greetings for the first five minutes, and then it becomes their own gathering.
An He sat aside, listening to the half-grown kids chatting animatedly. At first, the topic was about lucky money, but then they started to talk more. This teacher has a big tongue, that teacher has a 5:5 figure and always wears short skirts, so-and-so kissed so-and-so, hey, what's the point of having sex in Class 4? Let's go drink first, and then get a room...
"Hey, hey, hey," An He interrupted them, "That's enough, you make it sound like you're there, it's so enjoyable, aren't you really envious?"
All the students laughed. After laughing for a while, they changed the topic and started discussing where to go for fun.
"Let's go sing." Xu Jingyao suggested with a smile.
"Okay!" Zhang Lin shouted immediately.
Hearing Xu Jingyao's voice, An He suddenly felt dazed.
Ever since that day when he accompanied Na Chen to the Fifth Hospital, they have not been in touch since then, just like the previous few times.
An He looked at Xu Jingyao. The girl was very pretty, but her facial features did not resemble Na Chen in any way.
Na Chen's appearance is delicate, flamboyant, and cold; only when he relaxes, which is a rare occasion, can one see his relaxed smile and somewhat childish expression.
The image of Nachen closing the car door that day flashed before his eyes again, as well as the words, I have a feeling...
I have a hunch.
What premonition
Although he had told himself that he should no longer have anything to do with this person, An He's thoughts were still a little distracted. He had to admit that the madness of the few meetings in the past few months had affected him.
But as for what Na Chen was thinking, he didn't know.
The students had been making noise until almost noon and were still sitting there with no intention of leaving. An He sighed and knocked on the table: "Are you guys done talking?"
"Boss An is chasing people away again!" someone shouted.
"I wanted to leave a long time ago. You guys are so noisy. How come we didn't even have a chance to talk during this winter vacation?" An He smiled and waved at them. "Aren't you going to sing?"
"Yes," Xu Jingyao looked at him, "Mr. An, would you like to go with us?"
"I'm not going. You guys can go have fun," An He knocked on the table again amid the noise and raised his voice, "Call home and report your itinerary. Do it in front of me."
A bunch of people took out their phones and called home, then walked out the door half-shouting excitedly while chatting. An He followed behind them and shouted that they should all go home after the song was over. Just as they were about to close the door, Zhang Lin suddenly stepped back, holding the door with his hand: "Boss An, I wish you a happy Valentine's Day in advance."
"…Ah," An He was stunned, "Thank you."
The students' voices echoed in the corridor, and finally after they all squeezed into the elevator and disappeared, the surroundings returned to the silence that had not changed in the past few days.
The occasional sound of firecrackers outside the window seemed particularly lonely.
An He leaned against the door. Is it Valentine's Day
He walked to the calendar and looked at it. Sure enough, the day after tomorrow was Valentine's Day.
An He couldn't remember how he spent Valentine's Day in previous years. He had spent several Valentine's Days without any memory. His feelings about Valentine's Day were probably not as profound as those of his students.
Every year, when he sees roses all over the streets, he sighs and says, "It's Valentine's Day," and then Valentine's Day is over.
For someone who has been single for a long time and has no goals or mood, there seems to be nothing else to do on this day except sighing.
But this year was a little different. An He went into the bathroom, washed his face, and stared at the mirror for a long time. He didn't know whether it was because he had a lot of money this year or because he was too hungry, but when he heard Zhang Lin say Happy Valentine's Day, his heart skipped a beat.
Suddenly I felt deeply sad. Anhe, you are a good man. Why did it end like this
I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, so I spent Valentine’s Day in the bathtub.
How tragic it is.
Thinking of this, An He returned to his study and turned on his computer. He needed to seek some balance from his group of single companions. Every time he saw everyone lamenting about where their other half was, he would feel genuinely happy.
When he opened QQ, a bunch of New Year greetings came out, accompanied by animations. He watched the Happy New Year animation more than ten times before he finally closed the chat box.
There were a lot of chat records in their small group, which seemed to be a discussion about a Valentine's Day singles party. He just scrolled through them and suddenly saw a sentence.
Jianbing Guozi: I won’t go out on Valentine’s Day
Jianbing Guozi: I will accompany her
"Damn!" An He stared at the two lines of words and couldn't help but curse in a low voice. The guy named Jianbing is Liu Jiang. When did this kid get a girlfriend!
There were several people below, cursing and congratulating him. An He took a few glances and quickly turned off the q.
When Lin Ruoxue called him before the New Year to chat, she mentioned Li Ting who she brought with her last time. The two of them are quite stable. Now Liu Jiang is also going to spend Valentine's Day with someone. Looking at the records just now, Song Zhibin and the others are also saying that they will work hard.
The number of members in the small single group decreased one by one, which suddenly made An He feel an indescribable feeling.
"Oh--" Angela sighed loudly, got up, went into the bathroom, and turned on the hot water.
The steaming water slowly flowed into the bathtub. An He turned on the video on his laptop, turned up the volume to the maximum, then stood in front of the mirror and slowly took off his clothes one by one.
The white mist gradually spread in the bathroom. The panting and moaning coming from the notebook behind him teased his nerves. An He closed his eyes, supported the wall with one hand, and slid the other hand under his body.
As he continued to rub and stroke along with the rhythm of the moans that filled his ears, An He's desire was successfully aroused, with a fire beating in his body, but he soon became annoyed to find that all he could see was Na Chen.
Na Chen's beautiful collarbone, clear back, flat belly, and tight buttocks...
An He hummed softly, lowered his head, and quickened the movements of his hands.
A Flower on the Prairie: You really won’t come out
k dead l hum wave
Grassland Flower: Did you have someone to go through this with you? The teacher
k dead l confused e, we complained about the United States m q, what the old man
Grassland Flower: My wife can't come out because her relatives are visiting! Besides, I'm worried about you being alone. Change your input method. I can't understand it.
k dead l how to boast
A Flower on the Grassland: Call me now
Na Chen hesitated for a moment, took out his cell phone and dialed Li Fan's number.
"Where are you now?" Li Fan answered the phone.
"The parking lot."
"It's Valentine's Day the day after tomorrow, why don't you go out and have some fun?"
"Why should I go out with you to have fun?" Na Chen took a cigarette from the cigarette box, lit it and put it in his mouth.
"Fuck," Li Fan was stunned for a moment and then laughed, "I'm going all out. I'll let you do it. Come out."
"No." Na Chen smiled.
"Your uncle," Li Fan cursed and said nothing more, "If you change your mind, call me, or just go to Boiling Point. I have an appointment with Yan Yi, David and the others at Boiling Point."
"Yeah." Na Chen hung up the phone and threw it aside.
Valentine's Day is the day after tomorrow, Na Chen looked at a calendar pasted on the iron wall.
He drew the calendar. Every month he would draw a calendar very carefully and fill in the dates with colored pens. When he was in a good mood, he would also refer to the almanac and write down the taboos.
He circled the date February 14.
It’s not because today is Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t feel anything if it’s not a Valentine’s Day. It’s his birthday.
It was his favorite day when he was a child. His mother would order a cake for him and prepare a birthday present for him on this day.
Happy birthday, Xiao Chenchen. You’re one year older now. Be a good boy.
But this memory filled with the warm yellow light of candles is a little vague. I don’t know since when, his birthday has been gradually forgotten by everyone.
Mom started to forget, and Dad... didn't remember in the first place.
Those memories that once had some warmth were left in the distant past, so distant that Nachen almost no longer mentioned his birthday to anyone.
Na Chen held a cigarette in his mouth and randomly clicked the mouse on the screen. He stopped when he passed the q.
There are only a few people in his friend list, but they are carefully categorized into bands, classmates, teachers, bars, and those who are annoying just by looking at them and those who he wants to kick when he sees them.
There is only one name without any classification, stir-fried lentils.
He leaned over the table and looked at the name. There was only Ankh, and he didn't know which category to put it in.
Na Chen didn't know how he felt about An He, whether he liked him or disliked him, was interested or not interested, or what he really wanted to do. He didn't know.
Apart from boredom and anger, for Nachen, who has never even heard his parents say "Mom and Dad love you", the definition of feelings is very vague.
Li Fan said, don't get close to An He, this person is hard to see through and understand.
Na Chen stretched, leaning back in the armchair with his legs stretched out. Yes, he could feel An He's distance from him. Even when he saw An He's seductive smile, he could still feel the sense of space that An He deliberately retained.
But I still feel warm.
The tolerance and calmness of An He, who was outside his life, made him feel warm.
It was precisely this feeling that made him not know what to do. Should he get closer, should he turn around? How to get closer, how to turn around, he didn't know anything.
He moved the mouse and clicked on the gray avatar of Stir-fried Lentils.
After staring at the dialog box for a long time, he tapped on the keyboard.
k dead l ambiguous
There was no response from An He. Na Chen waited for a long time before standing up and leaving the computer.
It's almost 12 o'clock, which may be a bit late for someone like An He who usually falls asleep at 11 o'clock on New Year's Eve.
Na Chen stood up and stretched himself, then went out and drove along the road leading to the crematorium from the back door.
The wind whistled in my ears, like a scream, or like someone crying.
At this time, there would be no one on this road. Na Chen slowly stepped on the accelerator, the engine roared, and the black shadows passing by his side connected into a piece, as if he was in a black passage.
At the end of the passage is the gate of the crematorium.
Na Chen drove back and forth on this road for more than two hours before returning to the parking lot.
After entering the house, he took off all his clothes. The warm air slid over his skin, and the cold air in his pores was expelled bit by bit.
He looked at the computer before going to bed. It was very quiet on QQ and An He didn't reply.
He woke up very early the next day. After returning home for the New Year, Grandpa Lu brought back a three-month-old coyote dog. Perhaps the dog was not tied up properly, so it ran to his door and barked early in the morning. It barked for half an hour without changing its singing style, insisting on its high-pitched beautiful voice.
Na Chen got up helplessly, found a bowl, poured half a bowl of milk, took it outside the door, and placed it in front of the dog.
The dog came over and sniffed it warily, then lowered its head and drank it all in one gulp. After finishing the drink, it licked its nose with satisfaction and turned away.
Na Chen went back to the room, got a toothbrush and towel and prepared to wash up. When he passed by the computer, he stopped. He didn't turn off the computer. After shaking the mouse, the screen lit up.
The dialog box with Dried-Fried Lentils is still there, and Dried-Fried Lentils’ avatar is still gray, with only his own words standing alone on it.
He came back after washing up and sat in front of the computer, staring at the two words he wrote for a long time, and finally typed another sentence.
k dead l vague good Xiao fuzzy doubt blink zinc chapter rice peptide ang garden stem easy
Na Chen went to the city and spent more than two hours shopping in a supermarket, buying a lot of vegetables and seasonings. There were a full range of pots, pans, and utensils in the parking lot, and he could ask Uncle Lu to borrow something if he didn't have it. However, he hadn't cooked seriously for a long time, so he was a little unsure and was thinking about what to make all the way.
When he returned to the parking lot, the avatar of Ganjiu Lentil was still not lit up on the computer, and there was no reply to the message he sent. Na Chen took out his cell phone, flipped through the address book, hesitated for a while, and put it down again.
He went back to bed and lay there for a while, then slept for more than an hour in a daze. Na Chen got up, washed and put away the dishes, but he still hadn't received a reply from An He on QQ.
Na Chen felt an indescribable feeling in his heart. He sat on the plush carpet, turning back and forth with his cell phone in his hand.
He was very familiar with this feeling. Over the years, this feeling of constant expectation and constant disappointment was the experience he was most familiar with.
He opened and closed the address book on his cell phone, opened it again, and closed it again. An He's name flashed on the screen.
You can just send a text message or make a phone call.
But he didn't dare.
He suddenly began to regret that he was so stupid to want to celebrate his birthday with An He.
He turned off the computer, put the vegetables back into the bag, lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.
I couldn't sleep, but I didn't want to move either.
He lay there until after eleven o'clock in the evening, when Na Chen sat up and looked at the clock on his mobile phone.
When the numbers jumped to 00:00, he threw the phone to the ground and fell back onto the pillow.
"Happy birthday, Xiao Chenchen."